


We R who We R

by Helicake752



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Established Relationship, Five Times Plus One, Fluff, Happy Ending, Homophobic Language, I promise it's pretty light, M/M, No Angst, Well not really, it's cute!, it's not that bad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-17
Updated: 2017-01-31
Packaged: 2018-09-18 02:02:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9360701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Helicake752/pseuds/Helicake752
Summary: Five times Hanzo experiences homophobia and one time he doesn't. literally the nicest thing I've ever written. (Yes, the title is from a Ke$ha song.)





	1. Welcome to Spain

The first time Hanzo hears the word, he doesn’t understand it. He is somewhere in Spain. A recon mission, scouting a possible Talon hideout. It’s just four of them: Hanzo, Morrison, Tracer and McCree. Even so, it’s more than enough. Hanzo and Jesse wait by the meetup spot, with only the instructions: be discreet. Hanzo doubts Jesse McCree knows the meaning of the word.

“Aw, C’mon Hanzo, don’t be such a buzzkill,” Jesse grins, poking Hanzo in the cheek. Hanzo wrinkles his nose, turning his head away from Jesse’s hand. “We’re in Spain! Ciudad del amor.” Jesse rolls his r’s with an exaggerated flair, bumping shoulders with Hanzo.

“We are here for a mission, Jesse,” Hanzo reminds him, rolling his eyes. Jesse grins, and links their hands together loosely.

“Don’t mean nothin’. Relájate, cariño,” Jesse purrs, tugging Hanzo along with him as he begins to walk. Hanzo goes along with it, if only to keep the feeling of Jesse’s warm hands against his own. It is early morning, and only a few people are up and about. Hanzo still keeps an eye out though. There may not be many people, but that doesn’t mean they can’t be dangerous. 

“Darlin’, what’d I say?” Jesse sighed. “Relájate.” He releases Hanzo’s hand, but before he can feel the loss, Jesse wraps his non-metal arm around Hanzo’s shoulder. Hanzo immediately leans into it, allowing part of Jesse’s serape to drape his own shoulder.

“It is a beautiful city,” Hanzo admits, nodding towards the picturesque ruelle they walked along. “It reminds me of home, in a way.” Jesse says nothing, but squeezes Hanzo’s shoulder. 

“Vete ala mierda, maricas!”

Hanzo barely registers the words, but when Jesse freezes, Hanzo looks around for the speaker. He locates a burly man, holding a bottle and swaying on his feet. Hanzo narrows his eyes and slips an arm around Jesse’s waist protectively.

“What did he say?” Hanzo asks. Jesse shakes his head and lowers his hat, but begins to walk again. 

“Nothin’ worth nothin’,” He spits, glowering at the ground in front of him. Hanzo looks up at Jesse. His jaw is clenched, biting his tongue. Hanzo nudges his shoulder with his cheek, a small gesture. Jesse turns over to look at Hanzo, and his expression softens slightly. 

“¿Estás sordo? Eso es asqueroso, ¡para!” The man continues to yell. McCree pauses, and turns his head. Hanzo glances between the two of them. He has learned to sense tension, and knows that a fight is sure to follow. Hanzo cannot tell what the man is saying, but he knows that it must be terrible to make Jesse so upset.

Jesse takes a deep breath, and Hanzo puts a warning hand on his chest. Jesse doesn’t move, instead he coldly states:

“Cállate pendejo o te mataré.” Before the man can reply, Jesse tugs Hanzo along, turning onto a different street. Hanzo is confused, and can sense tension rolling off Jesse. Hanzo stops Jesse, looking up at him with uncertainty. 

“Jesse. What just happened?”

“Nothin’ Darlin’, don’t you worry. Some people just don’t got their head screwed on right, can’t see past their own damn noses-”

“Jesse.” Hanzo stops him by placing both hands on his shoulders, forcing Jesse to look him in the eye. Jesse breathes out harshly, slumping forward. Suddenly, Hanzo is swept up into a bear-hug, lifting him onto his toes.

“Darlin’, I love you, and don’t never let no one take that away, y’hear?” Jesse whispers. Hanzo is confused, but he nods. It is clearly important to Jesse.

“I love you as well.”

When Jesse pulls away, his eyes are slightly red, but Hanzo doesn’t say anything. He also doesn’t say anything when he pulls Jesse’s hand into his own, locking the fingers together tightly. 

Spain is beautiful, but the people are not.


	2. The Kids in King's Row

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why does hanzo watch kids in the park? The world may never know

The next time Hanzo hears the word, it isn’t addressed to him. He is walking alone in Kings Row, after a particularly nasty mission in Dorado. The base is in a state of panic, agents being rushed in and out of the medbay for everything from the usual post-mission checkups, to three cracked ribs and a concussion (McCree, the idiot). as much as Hanzo would have tried to help, he knows he’d only be in the way. So, silently, He snuck out of the base, and into the cool night air.

The sun is only just beginning to sink below the horizon, casting the whole city in an orange glow that would make Tracer squeal with glee. Few people are around, having bustled home to beat the darkening sky. It is calm, and quiet, one of the only reasons Hanzo is able to hear it so clearly.

There is a small park near the center of town, across the street from Hanzo. There is rustling, and shortly after, there is shouting and laughter, accompanied by screams. Hanzo freezes, unsure of whether to pause or keep walking. He is still alert from the mission, instincts flaring up and mixing with leftover adrenaline. Across the way, he sees small silhouettes of children run through the park. He freezes, instincts demanding his constant vigilance.

“Aw, Scott, give it back! Marsha’s gonna be mad when she finds out you took it!” Hanzo picks out a dejected voice through the chatter of thick british accents and scampering feet. Hanzo doesn’t realize he has shifted back into the shadows until he’s obscured entirely. 

“And what’s Marsha gonna do about it?” The biggest kid, both vertically and horizontally, sneers, holding something aloft in a meaty hand, high above the head of a young boy bouncing around his legs, attempting fruitlessly to grab it back. Scott bares a striking resemblance to Roadhog, Hanzo can’t help but notice.

“Yeah, what’s your big ugly step-sis gonna do, huh? Beat us up? She’s just a whiny girl!”

Hanzo spent most of his life around henchmen, and instantly knew the role of the two smaller boys beside the thief. His eyes narrow. He dislikes bullies, but he knows the importance of earning respect, as well. So, he waits.

“Just give it back, Scott! My dad gave that to me, it’s special…” Hanzo hears the waver in the child’s voice, strong enough to guarantee tears coming with it. Evidently, the other children do as well.

“Haha, look at that! We made Lukas cry, what a cry baby!” One of the henchmen gloats, and high-fives the other. 

“Oi, what are you lot doing to Lukas?” A feminine voice cracks through the park, and startles Hanzo out of his trance. Presumably the ‘Marsha’ the children spoke of. She appears older than the rest, or at least taller. Hanzo sighs silently. This Marsha child would take care of the mess, there was no need for him to stay. 

“Heya Marsha, just playing with your little brother, that’s all,” Scott grins, putting on his most charming smile. Hanzo rolls his eyes; that almost certainly works on the adults in his life. Hanzo begins to creep silently out of the shadows, hesitant to attract the attention of the children in the park.

“Come off it, Scott, there’s no reason to bully him, he’s two grades lower than you for christ's sake!”

“Don’t you get tired of defending your little faggot brother?” Scott sneers. Hanzo freezes in his tracks. Something like ice water rushes into his stomach, rooting him to the spot. He listens in stony silence, now unable to allow the children to handle themselves.

“You’re such an arse, Scott! Just give Lukas his action figure back, or I’ll tell our dad!” Marsha snarls, and through the cover of dark and bushes, Hanzo sees her lunge for Scott’s arm. She would have had a much better chance of subduing him had she tackled him around the middle and brought him to the ground, but she manages to knock the toy from his hand regardless.

Before Lukas or Marsha can retrieve their prize, the henchmen around Scott step in front of them, pushing Marsha back and Lukas to the ground. Scott picks the toy back up, and looks down at it with disgust.

“Hey, I know this! It’s one of those Overwatch crackpots!” 

“Hey, you’re right!” One of the henchmen looks over, grinning nastily. “That’s one of the originals, before the wankers went and blew themselves up. McCree, that stupid bloke in Blackwatch!”

“If McCree were here he’d beat you up!” Lukas shouted, his voice still quavering from his tears. The other children laugh, and Scott pushes Lukas back to the ground.

“Indeed,” Hanzo finally speaks up, stepping out of the shadows. He cannot speak for the validity of Lukas’ statement, but he doubts his husband would have allowed the torment to continue as long as Hanzo had, a fact that makes him cringe a little bit. “Is it not late for children to be out at this time?”

The group of kids all stare at him, various mixtures of awe, horror, and disgust on their faces. Too late, Hanzo realizes hadn’t bothered to change out of his clothes before sneaking off base; his quiver, bow and armor were on full display for the children.

“Sorry, sir, we were just playing in the park, and we lost track of time, that’s all!” Scott recovers quickly, plastering an apoplectic smile overtop his awed expression. Hanzo raises an eyebrow, and looks over at Marsha, prompting an explanation from her. She purses her lips and looks briefly at Scott, before dropping Hanzo’s gaze.

She expects Hanzo to believe Scott’s horrendous lie, as all other adults must have done. Hanzo lets out a small sigh through his nose, and shakes his head. 

“Then you best return home now, before your parents worry too much,” Hanzo commands sternly. They all nod, and turn to go, but Hanzo clears his throat, stopping them all. He extends his hand, fixing Scott and his Henchmen with a disapproving glare. “I suggest you return what you have stolen before you leave.”

Scott’s face is an indignant scowl as he begrudgingly forks over the toy, and stomps off, his henchmen close behind. Before he gets too far, he looks past Hanzo and snarls at Lukas,  
“Tell your dad that Overwatch is a bunch of criminal faggots, the whole lot of them!”

Hanzo takes a step forward, and looks coldly at Scott. He certainly seems to enjoy that word, the one that makes Hanzo’s skin crawl.

“I will be sure to pass the message along to the rest of the team. I am sure they will appreciate your comments.”

“Yeah right, as if! You’re just some crazy cosplayer! I betcha you’re one of those pervs who watches kids in the park for fun, you creep!” Scott shouts, and scampers off around the corner. Hanzo rolls his eyes. He knows Scott’s type well. One such boy tormented Genji endlessly in his youth, until Genji summoned his dragons and chased the boy away for good.

“I apologize for my uninvited intervention,” Hanzo says, turning around and bowing slightly to Lukas and Marsha. “This is yours, I assume?” He holds out the McCree figurine. Lukas stares at his hand for a moment, and Marsha elbows him, hissing at him to take it.

“T-Thank you, Mr… Overwatch!” Lukas squeaks, holding the McCree close to his chest. Marsha regards Hanzo skeptically, her hands placed firmly on her hips.

“Are you actually a part of Overwatch or did you just say that to scare them off?” She demands. Hanzo huffs out a small laugh. This girl reminds him of McCree, in a way.

Instead of answering, Hanzo just stands up straight, and looks back the way he came. “I will tell Jesse that there are figurines of himself, he will be pleased to hear it. Although, I doubt his self-esteem is lacking enough to warrant such flattery. I meant it about returning home, it will be dark soon.”

With that, Hanzo walks away, aware of the wide pairs of eyes trained on his back. He doesn’t glance over his shoulder as he scales the brick wall of the store across the street, but he does hear the shocked gasps behind him, and the elated cries:

“A real Overwatch Agent! We got saved by a real Overwatch Agent!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to Ky writes Kids, the Tragedy. shout with me about video games @popcorn-fox on tumblr


	3. Train Ride in Numbani

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to the Pain Train, as it pulls into Frustration Station

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I saw people's comments about me being sort of a wuss when it comes to slurs (Yeah I'll admit it) and you guys are all right, I just tend to be overly cautious about that sort of thing. So I fixed it in the last chapter and will keep it in mind for future chapters. Vulgarity, away!

Hanzo doesn’t hear the word for a long time after. He and jesse are away for the holidays. Thanksgiving, technically. Hanzo only vaguely understands the purpose of the holiday from Jesse’s crude explanations, but he is thankful for the time off. Jesse has admitted to his own distaste for the holiday, leaving both of them free to do as they wish.

“If you wanted it you coulda just asked,” Jesse grinned, shrugging his blue serape off his shoulders and over Hanzo instead. They are in Numbani, standing and waiting for a bus, which is predictably late. Hanzo says nothing, simply wraps himself up to the nose in the soft fabric. It smells like smoke and dirt, with a hint of cologne. It smells like Jesse.

“Maybe you wouldn’t be so cold if you actually dressed for the weather, pumpkin,” Jesse continues, slipping his hand into Hanzo’s. 

“Why should I? You are like a heater,” Hanzo grumbles, nestling closer to Jesse’s side. Jesse chuckles, a low rumbling sound that vibrates through his chest. Hanzo smiles, hiding it behind his stolen serape.

They are not the only ones waiting for the bus. A small group of people are waiting: Hanzo, Jesse, two teenage girls sitting on the bench, an elderly woman absorbed in her phone conversation, and a tired looking college student staring blankly at the sidewalk in front of him. Hanzo tenses, the familiar sensation of eyes on him crawling up his spine. 

Jesse feels him freeze. A hand comes around his waist, reminding him that they aren’t on a mission, there’s nothing to worry about. They are just ordinary people (well, as ordinary as a literal cowboy can be). He turns his head more sharply than he intends to, and catches the wide-eyed gaze of the teenage girls, who immediately drop his gaze and giggle to one another. 

“You alright over there, sugar?” Jesse asks quietly, gently poking Hanzo in the side. Hanzo slowly turns his head away, still glowering at the girls from the corner of his eye. He nods, and Jesse laughs. “Calm down, ain’t nobody gonna bite, ‘cept maybe you.”

Hanzo hears the girls break down into more giggles, but before he can respond, the bus pulls up. They all enter, him and Jesse finding seats near the back. 

“You should wash this,” Hanzo mumbles, thumbing at the fabric around his shoulders. Jesse grinned, and slung an arm around Hanzo’s neck.

“What, ‘n get rid of my aesthetic?” He teased. “‘Sides, I know you like how it smells, else you wouldn’t keep stealin’ ‘em.”

“How do you know I do not simply take them to clean them?” Hanzo shoots back, raising an eyebrow at Jesse. His husband smiles widely, and presses a wet kiss to Hanzo’s cheek.

“Aw, you’re a bad liar, sunshine.”

“I am not!” Hanzo splutters, wiping at his cheek furiously, a pout coming across his features against his will, bringing a tinge of pink with it.

“So tsundere!”

“It’s like yaoi in real life!”

Hanzo’s face immediately drops, and he looks over at the same two girls, whispering and giggling to one another while staring at him and Jesse. Hanzo feels something ugly blossoming in his stomach, something nauseating.

“Do you think they’ll kiss more?”

“I bet he’s the bottom.”

Hanzo turns away. Mortification. That was the feeling in his gut. Genji and Jesse were usually the only ones capable of drawing the feeling from him, but something about the way they stare, the way they laugh, as if they somehow know something about him and Jesse, their lives, their relationship… 

Hanzo gently disentangles himself from Jesse, slipping ever so slightly away, giving them space. He immediately felt colder, from the loss of body heat and the confused look Jesse gives him. Hanzo couldn’t bring himself to look up from his lap.

“Heya, Han, you alright?” Jesse asks, looking at Hanzo with concern. It had been a while since Hanzo had pushed him away with no explanation, and it had taken a while for Hanzo to start accepting his affection, but something about the way those girls’ eyes fixate on his every move make him squirm, uncomfortable in his own skin.

“Oh man, this is just like that one manga I was talking to you about-”  
“Shhh, the angst is coming!”

“Hanzo, really, you’re scarin’ me-”

“I am fine,” Hanzo grits out, closing his eyes. His discomfort morphs, ever so slightly, anger edging into the pit of his stomach. Why couldn’t he just sit with his husband? How dare these girls make him feel so uncomfortable, make Jesse worry-

“It’s not like I like you or anything, b-baka!” One of the girls gasps, throwing her hand to her head as the other girl devolves into giggles. Hanzo glances at Jesse, before pointedly nodding towards the girls.

“We are being… observed,” He spits, glaring at his metallic feet. Jesse’s expression sours, and he nods.

“Well, somebody’s always gotta piss in the punch bowl, I s’pose,” he sighs, settling back in his chair. Hanzo snorts at his ridiculous expression. 

The rest of the bus ride is awkward, Hanzo and Jesse remaining just out of one another’s touch. They easily fall back into conversation, but there is an uncomfortable tension behind it, even after the two girls step off the bus. The college student comes out of his stupor long enough to give them both a sympathetic smiles as he steps off.

Hanzo sighs, wishing he could settle back against Jesse’s side, steal his warmth again, but the sensation of being watched stays with him, rooting him to his seat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK so I just want to clarify I'm not trying to make any sort of statement on people being into yaoi or shipping or anything, because that would be super hypocritical of me!!! please don't think I'm trying to make anyone feel bad about liking ships. But in the context of the chapter it's a 'real life' scenario. The point is that fetishizing real people in an actual relationship like that is creepy to say the least, sexual assault to say the worst. By all means, read smutty manga about video game characters all you want, but please don't talk about real human beings like that, it's not OK...
> 
> Shout with me about video games on tumblr @popcorn-fox


	4. A Night In The Desert

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A double dose of pain, just like midterms. I am suffering y'all  
> AKA welcome to Ky writes southern accents

Hanzo doesn’t expect to hear anything through the still sounds of midnight in the desert. The mission on Route 666 had turned out to be a hoax, something Hanzo had predicted at its outset, though he’d said nothing. He, Jesse, Genji and Soldier 76 are stranded until morning, waiting in a seedy hotel which Jesse has assured everyone was the only place for miles Deadlock didn’t have bugged.

Hanzo sits, cross-legged on the thin mattress, watching the steady rise and fall of his husband’s chest. He is unable to sleep, a common occurrence worsened by the strange new environment. The combination of a new place and a full moon put Hanzo on edge, the dragons crawling just beneath his skin like a ripple through a still pond.

Hanzo matches his breaths to Jesse’s, attempting to steal some of the tranquility from his slumbering form. He is sprawled across the bed; without Hanzo in his grasp, Jesse tends to stretch himself over the entire surface of the mattress, and then some. His breathing catches for a moment, a sudden intake of breath, and his head turns to the side, brow furrowed.

“Shhhh, darling,” Hanzo whispers, placing a hand on Jesse’s shoulder soothingly, quieting him. The nickname Jesse uses so freely around Hanzo falls from his tongue only in secret. He could never say it if Jesse was awake, not without stumbling over his words and making a fool of himself. 

Jesse stills for a moment, before his hand twitches, curling and uncurling into a fist. His breathing speeds up for a moment, and his head jerks to the side, and then he’s sitting bolt upright, chest heaving. Hanzo pulls his hand back, worry working it’s way into the tight line of his mouth. Jesse doesn’t seem to notice him, staring straight ahead at the wall, eyes wide as saucers, blinking fast. 

“Jesse?” Hanzo ventures, watching him carefully. Slowly, he turns, taking careful breaths, and shakes his head.

“Sorry darlin’, didn’t mean to scare you. Just a bad dream is all,” He chuckles, attempting to brush it off. Hanzo nods, but doesn’t miss the way Jesse’s jaw tightens, his hands stay tense. He is afraid.

Hanzo reaches out, and pulls Jesse’s hand into his, gently uncurling the fist. Jesse closes his eyes, and takes deeper breaths.

“What is the matter?” Hanzo asks quietly. Jesse shakes his head again, squeezing his eyes shut tighter. Hanzo waits patiently. His husband is not a man who hides from his problems for long.

“Ah, nothin’, just an old wound my mind loves openin’ back up and pokin’ around it,” Jesse finally sighs. He pulls Hanzo into his side, leaning back on the bed. Hanzo immediately curls around him, resting his chin on Jesse’s shoulder. He feels Jesse relax into his touch, dispelling the last of the dream’s lingering anxiety.

“I am familiar with nightmares,” Hanzo murmurs, poking Jesse’s cheek with his nose. “Both my own and yours. Do you wish to tell me about it?”

“If you really wanna know, I s’pose I could fill you in,” Jesse hums, kissing the top of Hanzo’s head. Hanzo nods, and wraps an arm around Jesse’s midsection, listening intently.

“I guess it’s just bein’ back on the old runnin’ ground, ‘n whatnot,” Jesse begins. “Deadlock’s thugs are still runnin’ around, harder to get rid of than cockroaches.

“It reminds me of when I was young.” Jesse pauses, and glances over at Hanzo, who is watching him with rapt attention. Jesse smiles a little bit, and shakes his head. “Neither of us are the nuclear family type, if you get my meanin’.”

“I believe the circumstances may have been a bit extraneous in both of our cases, yes,” Hanzo concedes. Jesse chuckles, and presses another kiss to Hanzo’s temple.

“That’s puttin’ it mildly, sweetheart. My dad, good ol’ papa McCree, was, uh… a bit of a heavy drinker, y’see,” Jesse stumbles, his voice turning sour. He clears his throat, and looks away, avoiding Hanzo’s intense gaze. “None too kind to Ma, neither, not that she’d tell any of us that.”

“I am sorry, Jesse,” Hanzo says. He had never heard Jesse mention his past beyond Deadlock, although from what he had pieced together it had not been a pleasant life. He hadn’t pressed Jesse on it. Hanzo was no stranger to memories better left forgotten.

“Ah, not your fault, sugar.” Jesse falls silent, and his hand absently comes around Hanzo’s shoulder, thumb idly tracing circles into the skin. 

“I ever tell you why exactly I joined Deadlock?” Jesse asks abruptly. Hanzo shakes his head.

“Were you not simply a young punk, destined for adventure?” Hanzo asks wryly, the barest hint of a smile in his voice. Jesse smirks and flicks Hanzo’s ear.

“I don’t need your sass, honey. Nah, it was mostly cuz I got kicked outta the house. Needed somewhere to go, ‘n they liked how I handled myself in a brawl.

“I still remember the fight that got me thrown out,” Jesse huffs, and his thumb falls still. “Pa’d been drinkin’ somethin’ fierce, n’ Ma was hidin’ in the garage with my sisters. I got home late, off doin’ whatever it is young punks-” -He squeezes Hanzo’s shoulder, mocking him- “- like myself did back then, so Ma didn’t get to warn me in time.” Jesse forces a half-hearted chuckle, but his voice is strained, and he won’t look at Hanzo.

“‘Course, it mighta been lucky I got the worst of it, lord knows what he mighta done to my sisters. I don’t remember what started it but nearly as soon as I’m in the door he’s yellin’ and grabs me ‘round the collar, lifts me off my feet.” Jesse pauses for breath, and Hanzo notes the way his throat tightens, warding off tears.

“Wasn’t the first time he’d slapped me around. I can still remember what he said to me, too,” Jesse shivers. “‘Ain’t no way in hell I’m keepin’ my whore wife’s little slutty faggot under my roof!’” Jesse’s voice breaks, but he composes himself quickly, and manages a watery smirk. “Then he literally threw me out on my ass.”

“Jesse-” Hanzo starts, voice soft, but Jesse keeps going, his hand tightening around Hanzo.

“Well, he was right, wasn’t he? Man of his word, I’ll give him that one. I remember while I was layin’ out front in the dirt, I saw my Ma and my big sis through the window, lookin’ at me like I was some drunk stranger layin’ in their yard. ‘Course, I know my Ma was just lookin’ out for my sisters, but…” Jesse took a deep shuddery breath, and a tear finally made it’s way down his cheek. “I remember thinkin’ ‘why don’t she look out for me like she looks out for them?’”

Jesse turns his head, finally facing Hanzo. He smiles half-heartedly, his shoulders slumping. Hanzo says nothing, processing everything he’s just learned about his husband.

“Jesse,” He finally says, reaching up to cup his cowboy’s face. He brushes away the tear tracks on his cheek carefully, and Jesse leans into his touch. “I love you.” He kisses Jesse, slowly and sweetly, trying to tell Jesse everything without saying anything. When he leans back, Jesse lets out a shuddery breath, keeping his eyes closed.

“Sleep now,” Hanzo whispers, nuzzling the crook of Jesse’s shoulder. “Thank you for sharing with me.”

Jesse doesn’t reply, just wraps his arms around Hanzo. If it’s just a little bit tighter than normal, Hanzo says nothing about it in the morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I lied about the no angst or whatever but I swear I didn't mean for it to turn out this way
> 
> Yell about video games or memes with me @popcorn-fox on tumblr yo


	5. Death in Dorado

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> whoops it's late and I have no excuse other than midterms. Ah well, I tried my best. Dialogue, am I right folks?

Dorado is beautiful, all bright colored buildings and clean streets. It reminds Hanzo of Hanamura in a way, bringing a pang of homesickness quickly forgotten as his comm unit crackles to life, alerting him to Lucio and Hana’s positions.

“We’re on our way to the payload!” Hana declares. “No one can stop me now!”

“Woo! Race ya!” Lucio cheers, followed by some loud clacking that Hanzo presumes is his skates. He turns the dial on his comm down, ignoring Soldier 76’s scolding and the younger agents’ complaining. He is just settling into his hidden spot atop the roof, when an insistent buzzing against his leg forces him to reach into his obi and look at his personal communicator. A message from Jesse reads:

How do I look from up there, beautiful?

Hanzo sighs heavily through his nose, and touches his temples gently. Slowly, he returns the personal communicator to his pocket, and turns up his earpiece enough to interrupt:

“Jesse, please use your earpiece on missions instead of my personal device.” Hana and Lucio do the functional equivalent of wiggling their eyebrows and nudging his shoulder, while Soldier 76 just groans.

“Ohoho, didn’t know you prefered PDA, sweetheart,” McCree teases. “How’s my ass look from up there?”

“Must you ask right now?” Hanzo sighs. “Four men, running from the payload,” He adds, quickly marking them with a sonic arrow.

“On it,” Soldier 76 grunts, taking off after the rogue Talon agents.

“Why even ask? It’s as gross and flat as always,” Hana scoffs, bringing them back to the topic at hand.

“Shapeless,” Lucio joins in.

“Excuse me,” Hanzo cuts them off, because honestly, how dare they insult his husband like that, “It is stunning, even more so from the proper angles.”

“Oh my god shut up right now,” Hana explodes, her mic cutting out at the end as she turns it off. Lucio falls silent as well. Hanzo smirks to himself, pleased.

“Well shoot, darlin’, didn’t know you felt that way about me,” McCree says, and Hanzo can practically hear the sappy, lopsided grin on his face. It makes his chest warm, just knowing that Jesse is smiling.

“I may perhaps be rather fond of you,” Hanzo returns.

You two are married!” Soldier 76 complains, and from his vantage point on the roof, Hanzo sees him throw his hands up in exasperation. 

“Two men, coming behind you,” Hanzo directs at Soldier 76, who whirls around, taking them out easily.

“You’re just pouty cuz you’re lonely. Don’t blame your bein’ single on us two,” McCree shoots back. “Not even myself could set you up with someone if you got an attitude like that.”

“Because you are indeed an expert on romance,” Hanzo intones, shifting his position ever so slightly, to watch as McCree presses his shoulder to a wall, his gun at the ready. Hanzo can just make out the dopey grin across his face, peeking out from under his hat.

“I landed you, didn’t I?”

“All that shows is your poor taste,” Hanzo sniffs. “Three men, around the corner, coming towards you.”

“Looks like Hana and Lucio let some stragglers through,” McCree mumbles, turning around and quickly dispatching each man as they come into his sight. 

“Augh, stop flirting for two seconds and come help us with the payload, they have backup,” Hana’s comm crackles back to life, bringing with it a very annoyed, very stressed voice. Hanzo grunts his acknowledgement, and shoulders his bow, sliding down the roof, and into the clean streets.

He stops about two colorful buildings from Hana and Lucio, before scrabbling up the side of one. He easily makes the leap between each, surveying the battle below him. Hana is in her mech, fending off about twelve men with assault rifles all at once, while Lucio darts around them, blasting music from his speakers. 

Hanzo readies his bow, and notches a scatter arrow, taking careful aim. His fingers tighten as he sees three of the men fall to the ground seemingly at random, but he catches the telltale silver glint of his cowboy’s pistol hidden behind a clean, colorful wall. 

Hanzo takes a deep breath, and releases his arrow. Three more men fall to the ground, and Hana manages to shake off the remaining six.

“Woo, that’s how Overwatch does it!” Lucio cheers, fistpumping. Hanzo rolls his eyes at the premature celebrating; there is backup, meaning Talon had expected them. Caution was of the utmost importance. He shoulders his bow again, and slides down the wall, joining Hana and Lucio on the ground. Jesse sidles up to them as well, not yet holstering his gun. 

“Hana, Lucio, keep escortin’ the payload, Hanzo and me’ll hang back and handle cleanup, in case any of ‘em show up again,” Jesse commands. Lucio and Hana snap to their orders, hurrying off with the payload.

“Where is Soldier 76?” Hanzo demands, scanning the immediate area around them, searching for the mission leader.

“I’m circling around to meet up with Hana and Lucio,” Soldier 76 tells them through the comm. Jesse grunts his affirmation, and turns to face hanzo. There is only a beat of silence before a ridiculous smirk worms it’s way across his face. 

“Alone at last,” Jesse grins suggestively. Hanzo rolls his eyes and taps his ear once, sharply. It takes Jesse a moment to realize he means that their comms are still online, and even shorter for him to turn his off. “Well, now that Big Brother’s not listenin’ in no more…”

“I do not know what you are insinuating but we are currently on a mission,” is Hanzo’s stale reply. Jesse juts his bottom lip out, pretending to pout, and slides up next to Hanzo, wrapping an arm around his shoulder.

“All we’re doin’ is cleanin’ up the backwash, sugar,” Jesse lobbies. Hanzo makes a face at his selection of words.

“Bear in mind you are the one who divided the team. Additionally: please do not call me ‘sugar’ after speaking of backwash.” Jesse chuckles, and pulls Hanzo closer when he tries to walk away. 

“Would you rather me call you sweetie? babydoll? Cutie-pie? Honeypants?” Jesse presses a wet kiss to the side of Hanzo’s face. Hanzo makes a big show of wiping it off in disgust.  
“I would prefer you call me my name, cowman.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” Jesse finally releases him, but Hanzo does not move away. Dorado is warm, and Jesse is warmer, but it is a different type of heat, one that Hanzo greatly prefers. He can’t help but reach beneath the red serape and gently rest his hand against the small of his husband’s back, something that Jesse definitely notices but says nothing about. 

“It don’t look like anymore backup’s comin’ after us,” Jesse sighs after a couple moments of companionable silence. “If they are, they’re doin’ a piss-poor job of it. We should go regr- Shit!”

Hanzo only vaguely registers Jesse’s surprised exclamation as he tackles them both to the ground, narrowly dodging a wide spray of bullets right where both of their chests had been only seconds previous. Luckily Jesse is more nimble than his size would suggest, and both of them manage to roll to their feet, weapons at the ready. 

Three men, two rifles and a shotgun. Hanzo is in front of Jesse instantly, arrow notched and bowstring taut. They all stand, staring at one another with a cold gleam in each eye. It is a standoff. Whoever moves first is dead, and Hanzo knows all too well how long he can last. Behind him, Peacekeeper’s hammer clicks, and Jesse inhales. Hanzo stiffens, barely allowing his chest to expand with each breath. Deadeye is charging.

“Well, isn’t this sweet,” The man with the shotgun grunts, keeping his eyes trained on Hanzo. “Protecting your princess? I could gag, it’s too much.”

Hanzo says nothing, regarding the man with contempt. He can hear Jesse behind him, taking aim.

“As much as I’d love to let you two queens go, from what I can tell, you’ve both got quite the price on your heads, and daddy needs a new pair of shoes.” Once again, Hanzo says nothing, but his stomach burns with anger. The man must see it in his eyes.

“Whoops, sorry bud. I guess daddy’s reserved for the bedroom, eh?”

What is taking Jesse so long? Hanzo’s arm is beginning to ache, and the man in front of his should be a puddle of mush by now. He feels the dragons stir, snapping and snarling. Unfortunately, the man does not know when to stop talking.

“Wow, tough crowd today. Well, boys, why don’t you say we bag these two fags and get outta- ack!”

Finally, finally, Jesse pulls the trigger, and the three men fall one by one, in a neat little line. Hanzo lowers his bow, and rolls his arm in a circle, listening as it cracks loudly.  
“Could you not have been more expedient?” Hanzo complains, rounding on Jesse. His cowboy shrugs, offering an unbothered smile.

“I can’t help it if there were more attractive things to focus on than their ugly mugs, darlin’.” It takes Hanzo all of three seconds to figure out what he means.

“You waited to kill our attackers. Who were aiming guns. At our faces. Because you were distracted by my ass.”

“What can I say sunshine, it’s my own personal Kryptonite.” Jesse winks and does not look apologetic in the slightest. Hanzo groans, and puts his face in his hands. His husband is a idiot, plain and simple, and Hanzo is an even bigger idiot for marrying him. 

“Well, I can’t exactly say I’m gonna miss this guy, but it wasn’t nothin’ personal,” Jesse sighs, and kicks the talkative man with the shotgun in the temple. His head lolls to the side. Hanzo’s lips curls in distaste, his nostrils flaring.

“He made it personal. I am glad he is dead.”

“Yeah, I suppose he was rather interested in our bedroom habits,” Jesse grimaces, and rubs at the back of his neck uncomfortably. His eyes shoot to the side, fixing Hanzo with a fierce look. “Promise to never call me ‘daddy,’ darlin.’”

“Promise to never ask me to,” Hanzo replies, wrinkling his nose in disgust. He slips up beside Jesse, and gently takes his hand. “I believe we are meant to rendezvous with the others by the helicarrier. Come, they are waiting.”

“Aw shit, you’re right. We’ll tell ‘em our comms shorted out,” Jesse suggests, clasping their fingers together. Hanzo hums his agreement, and casts one last backwards glance at the man lying face down on the clean street. It was nothing personal, until it was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> no disrespect to people with daddy kinks but please keep that away from me, a humble asexual


	6. Mornings in Ilios

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Whew, it's done! First thing I've finished in a long time. (*It's Over, Isn't It, blasting in the background*)

Hanzo hasn’t heard anything all morning. The Watchpoint in Ilios is usually quiet, never housing more than a couple agents at a time due to both space and location, but today it seems lonelier than usual. As Hanzo sips thoughtfully at his morning tea, he aimlessly ghosts through the halls, finding his way to the tiny lounge area and curls into the overlarge, overly-cushy couch. He’d awoken early, against his better judgement, and somehow managed to avoid waking Jesse as he crawled out of bed, something he is equal parts pleased and annoyed about.

He sinks into the overstuffed couch, cradling his warm cup against his chest. The steam feels nice against his face, warm and wispy. He hears the gurgle of the coffee pot in the kitchen, alerting him to his fellow agents’ awakenings. Heavy footsteps pad out of the kitchen, a dangerous choice that will surely leave the poor individual coffee-less.

“Why’d you leave me, sweet thing, the bed got cold without you.” A hand snakes down Hanzo’s shoulder and rests against his chest. The weight of his husband’s chin settles against Hanzo’s head, making him bite back a chuckle.

“I would not have noticed, since I am forced to sleep without blankets each night,” Hanzo replies, sipping his tea pointedly. Jesse makes a whining noise, and leans heavier against Hanzo.

“At least I don’t snore!” He shoots back. Hanzo raises an eyebrow. Hanzo does not snore either, but it seems to be an unimportant detail at present. Jesse lifts off of him, and for a moment even the steam from his tea isn’t warm enough to make up for the loss, but then the familiar heat of Jesse McCree flops down on top of him, head pillowed against his thighs. Jesse grins up at him, far more awake than anyone has the right to be at this hour.

“How’d you sleep, other than the blatant blanket-thievery, darlin’?” Jesse asks. He reaches up and gently pries the cup of tea from Hanzo’s hands, and claims it as his own. It is just as well; Hanzo is finished with it anyway.

“Fine, if cold. Yourself?”

“I’ve had worse, but it’s always better with you, sugar. Speaking of, did you tip the whole box in this?” Jesse gestures to the cup and makes a face. He hates sweet things, a fact Hanzo finds disappointing and vaguely surprising. He makes a noncommittal grunt, and cards his hand through Jesse’s hair, hands moving of their own accord. The hair is soft and thick, and Jesse makes quiet, happy noises when Hanzo scritches against his scalp. There are worse ways to begin a morning, Hanzo decides.

They sit in comfortable silence for all of ten minutes before other agents begin to wander through the lounge, looking as dead as Reaper, minus the cloak and mask. Mei doesn’t notice them as she wanders in, nose buried in her tablet and mug of coffee pressed to her lips. Genji nods as he crosses in front of them to sit in the chair adjacent the couch. Hanzo has the sneaking suspicion he goes back to sleep behind his mask after he sits, but refuses to tattle on his brother, and says nothing.

“Good morning, all,” Angela murmurs, drifting through the room quietly, and sitting on the floor next to Mei. She too is absorbed in her tablet, but instead of a mug she grasps a small pastry that Hanzo is almost certain was not in the kitchen last night. He looks down at Jesse, and concludes his mental tally. Everyone is present, everyone except-

“Who drank my entire pot of coffee?” Hana demands, dark circles under her murderous eyes. She rounds on Jesse instantly, nostrils flaring. He holds his hands up in placation. 

“Hey, don’t look at me, missy. I stole Hanzo’s, fair and square.”

“I can confirm my husband’s thieving tendencies,” Hanzo adds, poking Jesse’s nose. He sticks his tongue out, and Hanzo leans down to kiss his forehead. Hana is not amused.

“Can you two stop being gross for like two seconds? Jeez, it’s like living with-”

“A married couple?” Genji interrupts wryly, proving Hanzo pleasantly wrong about his state of consciousness. Hana’s eyes narrow, and she harrumphs, crossing her arms.

“Why d’you automatically assume it was me who took it, anyway?” Jesse speaks up, turning his head in Hanzo’s lap to glare accusatorily at Hana. She says nothing, and stomps out of the room, presumably to make more coffee. “This is homophobia, I swear.”

“Jesse, please explain how this is homophobia,” Angela sighs, looking at him warily.

“I am gay and inconvenienced,” Jesse declares. Genji hums, contemplatively, pulls a pot of coffee from behind his back, and silently hands it to McCree. He holds it up, a small toast to Genji. Angela sighs, and makes a show of returning to her tablet.

“I am also gay, and personally inconvenienced by you. Does this make you homophobic as well?” Hanzo asks, flicking Jesse’s cheek. Jesse sips at his ill-gotten coffee thoughtfully, straight from the pot, Hanzo notes with no small amount of disgust, and then shakes his head.

“Nah. You signed up for it, so you can’t blame me for this.”

Hanzo wrinkles his nose at Jesse, but smiles all the same. Indeed, he had signed up for all of this, and with Jesse laying, warm and solid in his lap, he wouldn’t have it any other way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aw, so sweet it'll rot your teeth. three out of four dentists disapprove. Please comment if you liked it, didn't like it, whatever. It'd make my day!

**Author's Note:**

> Ahaha welcome to my obsession. Shoutout to turntechgoddamnitt on tumblr for being my bae-ta. Come shout with me about video games on tumblr at http://popcorn-fox.tumblr.com/


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